


Morning Star

by blankdblank



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Ending Bloodlines, Forced Bonding, Forming Bonds, Kings & Queens, Lost Home, Lost Kings, Meet the Family, Protect the Hobbits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 23:52:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19038100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blankdblank/pseuds/blankdblank
Summary: A message from the Valar drives a Princess from her home ages before its planned downfall. Over the years she gains a following and falls into legend while another name rises. The faceless King Strider, only seen by a small few of the masked Rangers with stars stitched into the elbow of their jackets and shirts.A Hobbit is hired and the Rangers arrive to do as they have been tasked to by their King, protect the creature at all costs, even against the wishes of the King who hired said Hobbit for the task.





	1. Chapter 1

Tindómiel, a name long since used, for searching for any sign of the only child of King Elros of Numenor need only turn their eyes to the wild of the world. Only there would you find yet another wanderer clinging to ages of woe and solitude in hopes of being spared another loss.

Manwendil, Atanalcar, and the short reigning King Vardamir, all your brothers and with their aging and your father’s passing you turned your eyes to the distant sea only feeling the great pain in the knowledge that after your mother you had chosen to not take your father and brothers’ path. Your nephew Tar-Amandil was crowned at King Vardamir’s passing and you were free from any obligations to the throne at his siblings taking up rule.

By the early sunrise after burying your youngest brother a quiet voice echoed in your heart while you paddled the makeshift raft you had formed to leave the cursed island. Since its birth you had lived there and yet you could already feel it dying as the looming wrath of the Valar was creeping nearer with each generation arriving and your recurring dream of its destruction would not stop haunting you. Always with a voice urging you to flee.

Harder and harder you paddled until a group of shouts sounded after you. A tearful turn of your head brought a band of faithful Elven servants, who had all remained behind to care for you in your mother’s choice to sail West. Panting steadily you waited for them to reach you on their barrels they had taken they strapped around your raft and then joined you in paddling to the distant shore. No longer clinging to your title you and the faithful six servants headed off to the distant peaks to find a home of your own. Here and there you made something more suitable for living only to feel the death of your father’s created home off in the distance. Your new home was then dubbed Osgiliath, the Citadel of the Host Stars, and taken from you.

All in your honor they claimed. Young Isildur arrived first and found himself drawn to the fields around your hidden home, your voice lulling him nearer, the stars in his words seemed to dance to your song of half hearted hope for your surviving kin. A shift of a stone under his boot caused him to stop when your singing halted, and just as Beren was bewitched by Luthien and her dark shadowing curls with stars said to be trapped in them he swore at once to remain faithful to you with sweet words and stars reflected in his eyes from the silver specks in yours. Their bewitching purple shade supposedly stole his heart demanding his unending fealty. However, with a crown on his head and a more beneficial offer of land your assumed spell seemed to wither away, but just as the Men rejoiced the last child of their first King dwelt among them you were gone again.

The Men did as they willed and you fought to remain indifferent as the next swirl of dreams came about. More and more your Men ventured off into the wilds in hopes of discovering the likeness of Luthien for themselves, not to claim, but to declare their fealty. Those successful bore proud stances and inconspicuous four point stars stitched on their elbows marking that they had seen the stars in the Wild Princess’ eyes. Not long in your endless days since your last stolen home you sat atop a half wall bordering a dock on the edge of Esgaroth a thunderous set of hooves skidded to a halt and a tall blonde dismounted and bowed his head to you under your long dark brown coat and hood pulled low.

In thick Rohirric he stated, “My apologies Strider. Queen Linea requests your aid.” A tilt of your head brought your distinct eyes over the mask coating the lower half of your face into view and you hopped down from the half wall collecting your pack with bow and quiver strapped to it you shouldered then accepted his hand up onto the horse behind him. Loosely you rested your hand around his side you watched the figure of the nearing barge arriving through the fog in your path towards Southern Greenwood.

Not long after the powerful steed continued racing onwards past the path of King Thranduil and his son, both on tall Elks watching as the horse crossed their intended path. Their eyes lingering on the rider from Rohan and then on you behind him, the hooded familiar figure earning respectful nods from the pair you returned while Former Queen Mother Taule wondered at the vastly smaller figure you held behind the rider.

A reach up brought your hood lower over your face and out to the edge of the forest you rode then came to a halt outside the exiting gates signaling your leg to swing down freeing you to land beside the horse and approach the line of carriages ahead. There you spotted the Queen of Gondor, as per tradition would deliver the firstborn son to Rivendell to be raised by Lord Elrond. Atop the spare horse they brought with them you escorted young Prince Arador off to the safety of the Elven realm you waited on the edges of while the Rangers, having heard your distant signals, flanked the carriages guiding them on to safety. After this you would always feel eyes on you from inside the woods, Elves always wondering why you never entered, why your hood was weighted to keep it from flying up, off again to Weathertop you would race.

Past the reclaimed Moria, now filled with your most loyal Elven followers treasuring the sealed keep you had led the cleansing of, protecting them with your absence. Again you would find the hidden door to the old lookout and ease into the fortress turned vacation home you claimed when you needed a place to unwind letting the horse follow the path to the Shire. A land where a great steed could always be useful for aid in tilling and find great ease in their days safe from the wars of Men under the watchful eyes of your Rangers.

…

A flicker of a flame visible in Weathertop brought a wandering Wizard to the other side of that same hidden door. Speaking in old Numenorian, _“All the ages of the world will turn and turn again, my greatest hope is only to be amongst my friend again.”_

The hidden door opened and you leaned in the doorway replying, _“For the last time, there is no need for a made up incantation to summon me.”_

Gandalf let out a soft chuckle and entered when you stepped back again showing him inside the warm keep where his eyes fell upon the softly glowing Elven toddler asleep in the basket by your armchair, “I was not aware of your child.”

Your eyes locked on his, “It is no secret the Queens of Gondor have entrusted their sons to my kin for centuries.”

“Ara-,”

“Estel.” His lips parted and you continued, “Gilraen asked when scouts discovered orcs in the paths to Rivendell ahead for me to protect him. I could not find a weakness in the waves camped around that keep.”

“It is rumored the infant was killed.” His head tilted noting the point on his ears curiously remembering seeing his rounded ears at his birth still glowing at the fresh link between the pair of you changing his fate by the grace of the Valar.

“Good.” You poured you both a cup of tea from the whistling kettle, “Then they won’t be looking for him.” He accepted the cup you passed him and caught your eyes when you asked, “How bad is this one?”

“Hmm?”

“The last time you asked me on a mission half of the Easterling’s territories ended up in flames and I spent three days waiting for that message of yours on just what I was supposed to find in their city to begin with.”

“That-, was a regrettable hindrance.” His eyes twinkled at you hopefully as you sipped on your tea. “The reason I came…”

…

Outside the Shire the early leaving Dwarves halted with hands latched onto their weapons seeing the line of Rangers blocking the path. In the distance Bilbo’s shouts were heard and with a grin he halted behind the others passing his contract to Balin. In the front of the line Thorin’s eyes held still on you with a firm scowl that only flinched when you spoke, “Mithrandir, you know as well as any no Hobbit leaves their lands without our escort.”

Thorin, “We do not require your aid.”

Bilbo’s lips parted, “I beg your pardon-.”

“Then you will not receive it. Master Baggins, however, will have our utmost fealty, as is due for all his kin.” Your line split and a line of ponies were revealed, pre saddled for the Dwarves and Bilbo’s sake.

Thorin, “Do not expect reimbursement.”

You let out a wry chuckle as your second in command says while the ponies walked over for the Dwarves to load up their belongings, “Not the best source of employment for financial gains. Though we all knew what we were signing up for. We serve our King, Strider. No more, no less. Do not worry yourselves about our barren purses, we have little use for them.”

Quietly against their issues with your joining them thy were content at least to be spared the task of bartering for ponies and had a great addition of arms to assist on guard. At lunch break a muffled whine brought their eyes to you. Your hood was drawn back and instantly they saw red at the tips of your ears only to calm when the last of the buttons on your outer jacket were undone revealing the armored lining to your coat widening your figure as well as acting as a shield for the toddler in the sling across your chest.

From his long nap he stirred with a big yawn all but melting the Dwarves’ hearts, and as they went to ask the others why they would allow you to bring a child three more of the Rangers, now revealed as female, also bore their babies in slings under their plated jackets. For their hopes of yoru being the infamous Strider all that died when Bilbo moved closer grinning at little Estel on his toes asking, “Soon enough he’ll be on a pony of his own Miss Pear.”

Weakly you chuckled removing your mask leaving it to hang around your neck replying, “Hopefully not too soon Master Baggins.” In the turn of your head you caught the young Princes whispering about you while Balin, Gloin and Bombur’s eyes were fixed on Estel misty from missing their own Pebbles both grown and still swaddled.

…

Tucked safely in the Troll Hoard the mothers and their children along with Estel in the arms of Elanor, one of your most loyal servants, awaited word of the path to be cleared. Since your leaving the Shire it seemed an extra masked face or two joined your ranks and soon enough at this outer edge of Rivendell 50 were tailing you alongside the Dwarves. Once again orcs seemed to be swarming around the enchanted kingdom since the Steward had taken control of Gondor it seemed orcs were growing bolder and bolder crossing into wider territories.

Thundering across the plain you led the charge only to stir confident smirks onto the faces of the Elves in the distance seeing the reinforcements they hadn’t expected. By hours end you were on your feet with each of the curious Elves closing in towards the one they all had known to be the mysterious Strider. All noting a striking pattern in a long since used series of moves shared with your fellow Numenoreans fighting with you from pre-destruction days. Two blocks with your mithril blades resting along your forearms followed by a swivel of your second blade to slice apart your foes. Each time in differing directions and always a deadly blow. Though your skill only distracted so long until a certain Elf Lord recognized your blades.

 _“Tindómiel…”_ In the distance Elrond muttered your name seeing your backwards lean to dodge the mace of a tall orc causing your hood to fall back revealing the noteworthy eyes that gave you away in your lunge to drive your blade through the orc’s heart. Jerking it back you swiveled your blades returning to your defensive moves to grant a winded Ranger beside you a few moments to gather his breath before guiding him on taking out the remainder around you.

By battle’s end you turned your head and were face to face with your father’s twin, bowing your head you stated, _“My Lord.”_

Timidly his hand rose up and he eased a latch open on the side of your mask loosening it to droop fully revealing your face, exactly the same since you had last seen him centuries ago at that final funeral. _“Tindómiel, It has been-..”_

“Miss Pear.” Your head turned to Thorin who asked, “Do they intend to hinder us?”

In a glance from you to the Dwarf King Elrond forced a hint of a smile and said, “Prince Thorin, any ally of Miss Pear’s is welcome in Rivendell.” A brunette Elf turned to guide the Dwarves, Bilbo and Gandalf off while you turned away only to halt at the firm hand fixed around your wrist. Lowly he pled, _“Please-…”_

Locking your eyes on his you stated, _“My son and carrying Rangers are in a troll hoard not far from here.”_

He nodded turning to walk with you, _“We will escort you there and back again. It has been some time since you have been home.”_

In a wavering tone you whispered, _“I did as I was told. To flee.”_

_“Told-, you had a vision warning you to flee?”_

A glance at him freed you to nod seeing the relief in his eyes, _“I could feel the shadows looming, I tried to ignore it, but it kept growing louder. I could not linger there.”_

_“I imagine that was a heavy weight to bear alone.”_

With a wry chuckle you guided him into the cave after a signaling click of your tongue in a warning signal of your identity. An easy grin slid onto your face as you chuckled reaching out for Estel in his warning pout, ready to cry for being away from you for so long. A gentle peck on his cheek and a brush of his curls behind his pointed ear revealed the Ring of Barahir, said to have been delivered to Strider, now King of Gondor as being the last rumored to be descended from the great line of Kings placed him as the best regent while the heir Aragorn was to grow. A now defunct idea leaving the throne in limbo and the Steward in power until Strider could be uncovered to learn if they would put aside the Ranger and become King.

Looking the child over and seeing similarities to another woman he asked you lowly in a step closer, _“Just where might his father be?”_

_“In his tomb.”_

_“And-,”_

Stepping closer to him you softly cut him off, _“Scouts alerted of an ambush. I was passed a bundle for safe keeping. His name is Estel.”_

Elrond’s eyes warmed reaching out a gloved hand mumbling to himself after kissing the top of the boy’s head, _“You are safe little one.”_

Raising him higher in your arms you caught his reaction spreading through his soldiers while they caught onto just who the child was. Easing the great loss they felt at failing the great line of Kings. Now grateful to know the youngest and oldest heirs to King Elros were to dwell in their Kingdom.

Holding to your hidden identities you were welcomed, scrubbed, redressed and fed thoroughly. The effects of which granted you a fresh pack of Elven traveling clothes at your reluctance to accept the fine gowns they had offered you as you were leaving soon. Though much to the awe of the Dwarves your star filled shadowy curls hung behind you freely to your knees revealing the great number of years it must have taken to gain such length to your thick resilient locks they all ached to reach out and touch as easily as Estel could. All hoping to see just what precious gems it resembled up close as the distance played tricks on their eyes adding hidden shades and flecks of color into each curl.

The awe of your presence there, along with the boy clinging to you so tightly in his sleep and waking moments you felt most eyes on you wherever you went. Between bouts of family sharing of tales over what you had missed since the last time you’d seen your Uncle, meeting his twin sons who you’d never met you before, you were content to trying to find time alone until you led the path out of the Kingdom reminding you only of who you’d lost. Thankfully at your request they continued to refer to you as Lady Pear to aid you in avoiding explaining the painful truth to these men you no doubt would be expected to abandon once they had won their goal.

Though at Elrond’s insistence to gain stability in the dimming lands your distant kin filled word had been spread of your safety and of your son, word which placed you solely on the throne at your own right with an heir to follow suit if needed. Distant cries and cheers went unheard to you while celebrations unfolded and the artists of the great White Citadel brought out your long since put away portrait to dust off and hang up in the Hall of Kings granting any with free time to visit a clear view of their new ruler. Painters with free time took to sharing the image with others by copying its likeness for display in the lower levels. All boasted to be poor likenesses of your beauty and bewitching gaze with the few Rangers bearing stars on their elbows to cheerfully fill in the details they had missed of your likeness and character with the paint, charcoal and easel.

…

A long enough stay had been accepted granting healing time to Dwalin’s shoulder from the trolls injuring him while taking one down. Off you rode to the edge of the forest, twice you faced harm needing to rescue the wandering Dwarves from danger.

One granting you a cursed ring and the other finding the now unconscious disguised Dwarves tied across the backs of your steeds leaving the Elven guard peering on at your great number of bundles for a single Hobbit’s possessions. Not an uncommon sight, the transfer of the kind little folk from one protected land to the next. No reason to interrupt them. Always Rangers passed through unhindered and were always welcomed whenever they approached the front gates as distant kin to Lord Elrond. Each time to be inspected and asked just how well they knew the fabled Strider whom they all knelt to a Ranger they hoped to meet one day.

Nearing the outskirts of the forest you caught sight of an alerting blue jay from a fellow band of Rangers. Thousands of orc were on their way to join the hundreds already camped outside Erebor hoping to work their way into the mountain to steal it from the great beast inside.

Elven lineage aside the Company had an army, albeit a small one, it gave them the great hope that with you they could pull this off far easier than if they had alone. With a turn of your head you eyed Elanor securing her jacket and nodding her head while you ordered her and the other mothers off to the Elf King’s gates with Bilbo along with them after Thorin had given his blessing to protect his Burglar from battle. All unknowingly joining the survivors from Laketown in the orc’s first attack destroying a majority of their city forcing them to fight back and flee with who and what they could.

Swinging your leg over your saddle you drew your swords freeing your horses to group together deeper in the woods at your charge out of the woods on foot into the sea of orcs. A signal from the other hidden Rangers eased the decision and time to obliterate the outer ranks before they could form up ranks. But by then a sea of arrows came down upon them from the racing Elves coming to your defense once your group had made it safely into the gates alerting the King Strider was waging war on the Elf King’s doorstep. For centuries he’d heard of this Strider, and now he would steal a moment to greet you properly

In your efforts you noticed the hoards climbing the mountain ridges stirring the beast from within. A deafening roar sounded and flames erupted from the overlook soon coating the mountain and heading out into the sea of orcs you had yet to reach. A soaring path overhead however came to a painful end as in a definitive dwindling last flaming blow to the orcs you took a running leap off the back of a freshly killed troll. Hard you landed feet first on Smaug’s cheek and drove a spear into his eye deep into his skull sending him and you into a straight path to the ground. Fleeing the path Elves and Dwarves alike huddled out of reach from the body crashing to the ground as you raced across it to dive into the frozen lake.

A set of hands planted on the lake’s edge and your drenched form rising unbothered by the frigid waters stirred the orc to flee only spreading the smirks on your Rangers’ faces while the Elves forced themselves to focus from your now partially revealed face back to the concluding battle ahead of them. One after another the orcs fell in your charge until the path was cleared to the open gates of Erebor.

In their worried glance back at you the Dwarves eased at your forces filling the ruined city of Dale. If there was any structure sturdy for housing it was fortified as the Elves returned to their forest, assuring your group would be well cared for. The notion of having children with them again easing the weight of the extra mouths to feed, alongside the added defense for the still onward marching orc forces on their way. By nightfall Bilbo had been fed and escorted into Erebor, where he discovered the stone and was all too painfully puzzled at why you had not been allowed inside the sealed mountain.

…

Dragons fall and horns blow, with the mountain won you took your place in Dale leaving the mountain to the Dwarves after catching their quizzical gazes at your Men at the dying breath of Smaug. No contracts were signed guaranteeing you a single coin, not that you wanted a portion anyways and Dwarven boots crossed the great distance in time to fend off a second wave of orcs. Out of your robes, cloaks and masks you all seemed to be regular Men from Laketown somehow already tasked themselves to clearing up the ruined city. All wondering at which of the Men were the fabled Strider.

In the midst of the hoard of returned Men of Laketown you slipped easily enough unseen by most. Tasked to several small jobs throughout the city and for the distaste of the few Dwarves holding claim over the rebuild you among all the others were reminded that it was the Dwarves who held claim to the city. Your largest task was aiding in the re-tilling of the farming land and healing the orchards just barely hanging on in the early chill at the first signs of winter. To the shock of the Dwarves a timid alliance was formed, mainly on the statement that Thranduil would be aiding King Strider in the rebuild. A common middle ground had been formed, that the Elves would assist in bringing about the first harvest and only then would the King’s gems be returned and a full deal could be found after.

In their deal a hidden agenda was present, each Elf looking and searching the crowds for any sign of those magnificent eyes once again, with only the Rangers bearing their masks still. Though it didn’t take long with the King’s own son locating you in the crowd and managing to sneak over to you to whisper in passing your son was safe. A passing flash of your eyes over your partially masked face locked on his and he found himself stunned for a moment then shook his head and kept on moving. The Ranger with the longest dark hair coated in dirt and dust to dim its effect was soon the common calling card for those bearing daily notes and updates on your son and carrying Rangers, all of whom would always give subtle hints to the Elf King in his passes through on just where you were.

For your secrecy to remain intact he would speak to your second in command, the one always taken for as the King, always pondering just how he could find some time alone with you. Just shy of two weeks and you felt your every inch burning and tearing under the weight of the doubts and slanderous whispers from the ring hidden under your shirt while more and more Dwarves arrived by the day. Your only hope that once this next wave of orc would come soon so you could simply find the end to this seemingly endless battle ahead keeping you from destroying it. Each day passing and visit from the stunning Elf King seemed to only worsen matters. For centuries since your first brief passing glimpse of him you couldn’t help but see his face passing through your dreams, each time leaving you hungry for more.

In the passing paths of the Dwarves you caught wind of the dinner for Dwarf Lords to celebrate the reclaiming of the stronghold, a dinner you were not invited to and at the absence of all the Company from your life since winning the lands back you were certain you were not wanted there. And yet at the lingering of yet another Dwarf who had caught sight of the patch of curls free of any dust and dirt drawing him after you in a daze wishing to gain your favor to see if your eyes were just as enchanting. Steadily you moved from one job to the next, this one where you would be aiding in the transfer of the records in the rubble of one building into the waiting wagon to be taken with the reformed library.

Around the corner a familiar face arrived, Bofur in all his polished glory in his flashy robes and new seal around his necklace on a golden chain. A jaunty tune being whistled by him in his path until he halted in your next pass to the wagon. Just the sight of him was enough to make you want to cry at the flurry of thoughts the ring was sending through your mind. Bouncing on his toes Bofur halted beside you with arms crossed behind his back, “Miss Pear, I am just tickled to have found you so easily.”

You halted peering down at him after adding your crate to the wagon now being sealed up and driven off for unloading, “What could have brought you out here?”

In the distance a scowling Dwarf tasked with supervising your sector huffed and glared at you in his storming path over to what he took as a disrespectful Man, Bofur gave you a playful grin, “I only came to see if you were alright. Your little one as well. We had a dinner to celebrate the Journey’s success last night and we’d hoped to have seen you there.”

Flatly you replied, “I wasn’t invited, besides, I highly doubt any of the Dwarf Lords would enjoy my presence there. These are the finest layers I have.” You spotted the approach of the Dwarf and added, “Estel is safe in Greenwood. This fortress is no place for him and there is still an army nearing us.”

Bofur’s lips parted in shock at your answer only for him to clamp them shut when the supervisor shouted out, “You there! You get back to work and bid the Lord a proper address in your parting.”

Bowing your head deeply you flatly stated, “My apologies my Lord.” Stepping back a step before you turned to head back to the rubble while Bofur eyed your tattered and dust coated layers hearing the supervisor growl out, “My apologies My Lord, these Men have no respect for those they owe their allegiance to. It is our King allowing their kind to remain here and repair the city.” Bowing his head he uttered the proper farewell and Bofur turned with tears looming in his eyes on his hurried path back to the mountain. Though on his path he joined up with the Princes, who earlier had spotted you in the ramshackle market run by the Dwarves in charge of what little there was to offer. Doubt flooded their eyes while they watched you empty your coin purse of the whole two silver coins you had left over from your wages after rent that were passed to another Ranger so they could afford the ridiculously overpriced potatoes they required.

In the filling of another crate you missed Tauriel in her lingering at the edge of another building. Once again she had passed a note off from the King on progress from Estel and at the continued notice of you withheld pain she wished to see if she could uncover more behind he reason why. A missed dinner, the company neglecting to invite you and now the clear lack of reimbursement at all, though your final statement on your being clothed in your finest puzzled her. No doubt they would be tolerable for the company of the Dwarves you had traveled so far with, and yet the sting made sense on her ride back to the forest. A King forced into hiding, treated no better than a lowly slave, paid no better either with little to spare over the rent.

…

Bofur, “She claims she was never invited.”

Thorin’s head turned with a shocked expression while Bilbo muttered in Hobbitish about his not being surprised, “I expressly invited the Company.”

At the end of the table one of the Dwarf Lords overseeing the rebuild stated, “There were none of those Rangers listed in the official contract we have recorded as your allied forces in the act.”

His brows tightened as he fired back, “Lady Pear killed Smaug, gained us passage through Elven lands!”

The Dwarf Lord replied, “Yes, however she was not among you, neither were her Men when the stone was found.” In seeing Thorin would be locked in a battle of splitting hairs he simply growled and turned away leading Bofur and the boys to a private study nearby.

“I will see to it she is invited to the next dinner myself.” His eyes scanned over the boys and their doubtful gazes dropping to the floor, “What?”

Kili, “If she survives that long.”

Thorin raised a brow and Fili added, “We’ve seen those markets Uncle. The Tunnsgr brothers in charge of it are charging the Rangers double, even more than the few Elves that barter there, only giving fair deals to the Men of Laketown.”

Thorin, “That can’t be. I set those prices myself.”

Kili shrugged, “Either way we’ve been monitoring it.” Passing a notepad to their Uncle.

Fili, “Besides, even if they were charging your prices after the rent they’re being taxed from their wages they’ve only ten silver pieces to last half a month.”

Thorin’s eyes darkened in anger while clenching his jaw as Kili blurted out, “No wonder they’ve asked the Elf King to keep watch over their bairns. Elves wouldn’t dare let them starve.”

Thorin drew in a ragged breath and growled back, “I will fix this.”

…

Deep in the winding Elven halls Tauriel found the side of her King and bowed her head, “My King, forgive my bluntness but I doubt a dinner among Nobles would be the best suggestion.” His eyes landed on her, “I overheard your list of possible reasons for an invitation to Lady Pear.”

With a sigh he asked, “And why would you assume that?”

“The Dwarves had a dinner last night,”

“I am aware. I was not invited.”

“Neither was she.” He turned fully with lips parted, “One of the Company approached her today asking her why she did not attend, lack of invitation for one, the other she doubted her appearance would be suitable.” Thranduil raised a brow, “She mentioned what she wore to work was her finest, though Lord Elrond had mentioned gifting her Elven layers, which could possibly not be suitable for mainly being Elven.”

Thranduil groaned, “I cannot invite her to state dinners for fear of blowing her cover, I cannot issue a personal invitation to a courtship for lack of a proper introduction while and I cannot request permission from Elrond to do so without first introducing myself to her!” In a growl he grabbed the cushion on his chair he hurled at the far wall then turned back to Tauriel as she cleared her throat.

Wetting her lips she suggested faintly, “Perhaps something a bit, broader.” He shifted to face her fully, “You could host an archery test, also using that as a welcoming of the relatives of the little ones to visit them. I heard the Dwarves are closing the work down day after next for a holiday of theirs. We could, conveniently separate her from the group.”

Thranduil nodded, “That might work. Something simple. I would greet all the Rangers if I have to.” Turning to his desk he began planning the event he hoped to have detailed by dinner to give his workers ample time to bring it all together.


	2. Chapter 2

Another two days had bled on and after another sleepless bout of tossing and turning on your worn bedroll on the uneven cold floor of your assigned closet of an apartment you had been assigned by the returned Dwarves still coated in frost after the early freeze turning the water seeping in through the roof to ice at the early winter chill. Still you had made your way to work and reluctantly found yourself in the sights of that same Dwarf’s path. Closer and closer he crept while you tried to back away on your way from the apartment into the orchards for a final check before joining the others for the seemingly unavoidable trip to Greenwood to see Estel leading to an impossibly painful goodbye.

His cunning path and group of friends seemed to join in his planning however, a simple compliment on your hair had grown into their cornering you until the Dwarf managed to take hold of your knee length braid. Swallowing dryly you eyed the dagger tucked into his arm guard as he purred, “Such lovely locks. I could craft you a far finer braid. If only I could compare it to those elusive eyes of yours.”

A second hand rose to hold up a section of the braid and you rapidly snatched his dagger triggering the Dwarves behind him to grip the hilt of their swords only to release them seeing you slice through your braid just above his hand and drop the dagger stating, “Keep it.” In your path forcing through the group of stunned Dwarves all eyeing the nearly three foot section of braid withering into a flaccid lifeless grey clump of hair fading into nothing more than a few wisps of dust.

In you absence their actions sank in, such awe striking hair withered to nothing all at his forcing contact. You had every right to stab him to free yourself and yet you cut your hair to do so, an unthinkable act for Dwarves, especially that length, an act they would never forgive themselves to driving you to. But the act did not go unnoticed as a group of Dwarves, including your boss in the rubble digging job realized just how poorly his kin had been treating you in particular.

Quietly on your tearful path you felt your braid unwinding and your curls pooling out over your back and onto your shoulders from its new length in the middle of your back. Hastily you reached back to braid it again and wind it up into a braid you knotted into place. Among the witnesses was the Elf King himself, who had feigned a need to speak with one of the Dwarves in charge to get past the gates, had witnessed your escape and briskly followed after you towards the orchard greenhouse. It wasn’t until he got inside he spotted you trying to fix one of the borders to the planters around a set of saplings.

A sharp gasp in your digging hand to straighten a board caused you to retract your now bleeding hand trembling before you. A few rushed steps later Thranduil was on his knee beside you with kerchief in hand pressed into your sliced palm as he ordered, _“Come with me. I will mend this.”_ His free arm lowered to aid you in your rise to your feet and he led you through the stunned band of Elven guards noting your bloody hand and tears streaming down your cheeks. Sure to keep his eyes focused on the path ahead to remain focused on the task of healing your hand instead of staring at you longingly.

Following the path his Elves had earlier told him led to your apartment he walked inside with a duck of his head and just about screamed in anger at the six by six frost coated room without so much as a chair. No stove, no heat, no running water or lavatory he turned noting the chair one of his guards brought inside from farther down the street after having seen inside your quarters before as another fetched the water to fill the wash bowl Thranduil pulled closer to him after he settled you in the chair and knelt at your feet. Tenderly he rinsed your cut and gently dabbed it clean, wetting the cloth again to press against it fully and softly mutter an Ancient Elvish healing chant. The cloth was drawn back and your cut was gone stirring a weak grin on his face that dropped at the teardrop that fell into your palm.

In a glance up at your face his expression dropped peering up at your tearstained face, _“Princess Tindómiel, you are in pain still?”_

You shook your head and wiped your cheeks with the hand he wasn’t clutching then unhooked your mask that dropped lower on your neck, _“My apartment is not exactly up for entertaining a King.”_

He sighed saying, _“This is no more an apartment than I am a dormouse.”_ You nodded sheepishly and his hands folded over your palm comfortingly, _“Come stay in Greenwood, I will ensure you are granted a horse to work here each day if you wish. You and your Men.”_

_“You already-,”_

_“We have ample supplies. Our seers warned us to double our crops last winter. With plenty of rooms to spare.”_

_“More Men are coming. They will be here any day.”_

Thranduil nodded, _“Yes, and Lord Elrond and Celeborn have marched out armies of their forces as well. You are not alone in this. That beast is dead and we are living with the dark cloud that follows. It will diminish, we will dig in, fortify and outlast them all.”_ You sighed and he patted your hand, _“For a night, please humor me. One night, hold Estel, share a breakfast and I will ensure you return to your shift on time.”_

 _“Fine. One night.”_ He grinned and stood, helping you to your feet and chuckled, _“In a fair warning, Lord Elrond has written to the Steward of Gondor of your return and heir.”_

In the doorway while one of his guards shouldered your pack you halted and peered up at him only to shake you head and raise your hands to rehook your mask into place over your mouth and nose. Lowly he purred in his duck through the door, _“Should you wish it when he arrives I will hold him down for you.”_

 _“Trust me, it would fare better for all of us if he runs.”_ Making Thranduil chuckle to himself. _“Men would never accept a Queen to rule them alone.”_

Thranduil tilted his head _, “When is the last time you visited Gondor?”_ Making you peer up at him causing his heart to skip seeing your eyes fully again, _“With shadows like that they need a Queen with the blood able to lead countless Men and Elves into the Wilds in search of a glimpse of her eyes. Wandering, yet fierce and at peace. No doubt they wonder what you could do for a stationary kingdom.”_

_“Or perhaps my son is the only goal in sight.”_

In a smirk down at you he replied, _“Doubtful, even with Lord Elrond vouching for the identity of his Ada. They would not willingly claim him over you.”_ You glanced up at him again, _“And please do not misunderstand me, Estel is greatly treasured. The identity of his Ada matters little to us past his gift to assist in his creation. You have no reason to share his identity with any of us and we will not ask you to divulge it unless you had wished to.”_ His eyes shifting to the ring on your finger silently confirming that he knew.

.

A tour bled into a late night of a seemingly endless battle of chess with the King all too determined it seemed to you to make you smile. A stolen moment alone to try and refocus your mind led to a shudder from you in your struggle not to touch the ring around your neck. The door opening behind you made you turn and grab the exposed chain you tucked into your jacket pocket you dropped onto a chair to your left. In his confused glance at the jacket you had dropped to your eyes Thranduil asked, _“Is something wrong? I ordered tea for us and you were gone.”_

Briefly he flinched down to pick up your jacket only to halt at your hand cupping his cheek in a hasty closing of the distance, _“There are endless rules warning me against this.”_ His brow ticked up only to drop again at his eyes clamping shut at your place just barely touching his lips. Firmly he leaned into the kiss you offered rapidly growing into a tangled mess of lips with hands fisting in each other’s hair and poorly muffled low moans from the King in his blind reach up to fumble his crown free granting you access to all his hair in the backwards path of his leading you to the lounge nearby.

On his lap you clung to the King who was continuing to tug you tighter until your flinch at the crash outside. A gentle peck on your lips later he helped you up and moved to regain his crown he added again then stutter stepped to steal another gentle kiss then purred, _“I will see to this, and find you after.”_

Finding Estel when you added your coat and chain again you returned to your gifted chamber to hold him until he fell asleep. Carefully you transferred him into his small bed in the nursery crafted for him and you laid out on the bed in your room. Laid out you stared out the window at the distant stars finding some form of ease in that your silent voice always urging you to flee. For once it seemed you had settled into the place you were meant to find for the time being. The opening of your bedroom door brought your eyes to it finding the King in a simple robe over a near sheer flowing white shirt over his loose sleeping pants. A small cart was pulled in behind him and his eyes scanned over you when you sat up adjusting your gifted sleeping pants lower over your feet and ankles.

A hint of a grin spreading onto his face in his approaching the table at that corner of you room in front of a set of windows there, _“I am glad you are still awake.”_

Easing your legs over the side of the bed you settled them on the floor and stood asking, _“Troubles with the populace?”_

He glanced at you with a smirk, _“No, Princess. The populace is just perfect. However, my council is demanding a greater detailed inventory on all trades with Lothlorien, for some reason.”_

 _“Ah…”_ you shook your head and glanced out the window as he poured a glass of wine only to glance back at his offering it to you, _“Thank you.”_ Your fingers just barely brushing his inching his grin wider, _“It is surprisingly peaceful here.”_

Playfully he quipped back, _“Surprisingly? How did you expect my palace to be chaotic?”_

 _“I,”_ You shook your head, _“Just a few tales of this band of bards-,”_

He lowered his glass from his lips with a mouthful of wine extending a finger, _“Mmm.”_ Swallowing the wine he replied, _“Yes. Now I see why. No, they traveled with my Naneth centuries ago.”_ Again you eyes shifted to the stars as his skimmed over your free curls down your back, _“It is fortunate to know you still have quite a length of hair, even with that man forcing contact with it.”_

_“Normally when speaking of my hair others tend to comment on how it lives up to the tales of my great great grandmother Luthien.”_

He chuckled, _“While many comment on mine like snow.”_

You tilted your head stating, _“I used to imagine Elves with white hair in my dreams, hair glittering in the moonlight.”_

He chuckled reaching up to slide a section over his shoulder onto his chest and out for you to examine, _“I doubt it lives up to your imagination.”_ His words halted however as your softly glowing hand held it out into a stream of moonlight making it shimmer forcing his lips apart to whisper, _“It never does that.”_

Gingerly you settled it back over his shoulder again with a soft grin, _“Ada used to say I was the birth of impossibilities in his life.”_

Making the King chuckle, _“A statement Elrond enjoys reminding me that daughters have that effect. Seeing as he has seen both sides of the coin. Would you prefer a daughter?”_ he asked with a curious twitch of his brow hoping he wouldn’t cross any lines in asking.

To his relief you chuckled weakly and replied, _“I am not certain how my daughters would grow up if I had any. Living in the wild for so long without a care for the proper spoon or how to hold a saucer inoffensively to your host.”_

He chuckled replying, _“Oh that matters little these days. Dash all the spoons but one and if your host is offended by holding a saucer a certain why then he is not worth the company to begin with. Your daughters will be astonishing, I know it. Just like their Naneth.”_

Sipping on your wine again you caught his eye and his adoring gaze. Steadily your wine glasses were emptied and set aside. Somewhere in the hours following fingers rose to brush your cheek sweetly with a gentle kiss to follow. Atop the King’s lap his hands smoothed across your back and cheek moaning against your lips at your hands settling across his shoulders in blind inspecting strokes at his usually out of reach muscles. An out of place horn snapped you out of your heated frenzy stirring an open mouthed gasp for air from the King at your abrupt lean back to look to the door. His warm fingers wrapped around your chin turning it so you would look at him again, _“Just the changing of guard on patrols.”_

You nodded and he locked his eyes with yours asking, _“Would you permit me to hold your hand while we sleep? You should rest.”_

Wetting your lips you nodded and his arms circled your legs carrying you to your bed where he set you down watching you fold back the covers and settle back before he moves to crawl onto the bed around your extending legs to settle down over the covers beside you. Tenderly he eased his fingers around your palm in his settling down into the pillows and covers beside you closing his eyes while you closed yours.

.

Warmly under the sunrise your eyes opened finding you clearly draped partly across the King’s chest with his arms tightly folded around you in return and his lips pressed to the top of your head. At your clear stirring his body shifted to its side humming lowly in content at having you in his hold. The tilting of your head stirred his lips onto yours again in a firm kiss ending with a low growling exhale at the knock on your door. _“That would be your breakfast.”_ He purred against your lips then stole another kiss at his cupping your cheek again then he straddled you in a climb to his feet again off the bed where he helped you up and led you to the table where the Elleths set the table before you and left you with respectful bows of their heads.

Plates were cleared and moved to the cart when Thranduil helped you to your feet and folded a pouch of coins into your palm parting your lips. Peering up at him you caught his eye and his grin dropped for him to say, _“No. Oh Eru, no!”_ He untied the top and pulled out a folded list, _“A shopping list. If you would not mind. I am still banished from a great list of Dwarves shops in the markets in Dale.”_ His hands rose to cup your cheeks and his lips planted on yours again in a hopeful kiss wishing to convince you of his devotion to you together. _“Please, I would never assume that of you, ever_.” At your eyes dipping to his lips he leaned in to kiss you again with a low hum at your melting into it.

Drawing back again he hummed, _“I should let you dress.”_ Withdrawing backwards a few steps to turn and then promptly turn back hurrying the last two steps to cup your cheeks again for another kiss your hand settled on his shoulder. At his inching back however a timid brush of your fingers along his jaw brought him down for another he deepened and melted into at your hand easing over his cheek. Purring lowly he stated a breath away from your lips, _“I will saddle you our best steed.”_ Stealing another gentle peck only to chuckle at your inch higher for another before he eased your hand from his neck and kissed your palm sweetly in his back steps away until the closed doors separated you.

.

Dressed once you had greeted and stolen a hug from Estel in his race to find the other Prince in the kingdom for another bout of playtime you found the King outside the stables. A wide grin spread across his face at your soft grin up at him, _“It is a beautiful steed Your Majesty.”_

Playfully he smirked at you, _“I take your lack of baggage to mean you will be staying another night?”_ His eyes sparkling at you hopefully.

_“You did task me with a shopping list. Poor manners not to return with your purchases.”_

He chuckled and watched as you added your mask and turned to grip the knot on your saddle feeling his hands settle on your hips to help you up onto the saddle, _“Tauriel will escort your steed back again after a stop to speak with the Durins and then will return to assist in bringing the items back again.”_

…

Each night after shared dinners with your sons, again his hand would settle into yours and each morning your would be draped across him until you stirred when he would turn to hold you tighter for a short time until breakfast and then his daily send of greatly pleased seeing your bags still left up in your room. No matter the light in your eyes and how early he ordered you to bed each night you still seemed exhausted more and more by the day. And each day the remorseful behavior of all the Dwarves you encountered grew immensely when word of your leaving the city spread drawing the other Rangers each night in a great group of travelers in borrowed Elven wagons freeing them to spend each night with their little ones as well.

…

Across the plains the crashing of swords drew the Elves and Dwarves out to the battle your kin was waging aided only by the sea of Gondorians and Eorlingas charging in on horseback under the raging darkening sky above. Twin blades were drawn from your boots and each slice and blocked blow you signaled just who you were even without your signature hood now resting across your back while awed Dwarves stole glances at your skilled frenzy. A dark column of clouds crashed into the ground splitting it and sending you flying to land and roll painfully to a stop only to rise slowly to your feet as a familiar figure stood wreathed in flames.

The burning eyes of Sauron’s armored figure snarled at you from under his shadowy hood drawing a blade his eyes lowering to the ring on your hand marking your lineage and triggering his first step to you while the Elves and Men reformed their lines behind the already forming Dwarves ready to charge. _“Your line will wither-,”_

_“As Ulmo is my witness, you will never touch my son!”_

A deep cackle sounded from the fiery figure until the river on your left dipped then rose up in an icy column striking at the earth behind you making the reforming forces staggered backwards from the newly revealed stream of lava feeding out from a dormant volcano north of Erebor. A tug on the chain around your neck brought a charge from him at your easy reveal of the ring in its fall to the lava earning gasps from the wide eyed Elves and Men looking on repeating, _“You will never touch him!”_

Within moments the ring hit the lava and you were thrown backwards into another column of water catching you from flying backwards in the burst of wind he withered away in while the others collapsed at the force of it. Around you they looked on at the watery hand easing you back to your feet while watery columns burst out of the water to shoot icy barbs at the orcs and goblins taking out all but a third of leaving the last bit to be wiped out by the last of the forces. In a hard swing the last orc fell to the ground in front of you and at the ceasing of the Elf King’s voice calling out for you your head turned in search of him only to have his arms crash around your back sending his loose air over your chest at the warm plant of his lips to your bloodstained neck.

Lowly he rumbled by your ear, _“I found you.”_ Disbelief evident in his voice as if he’d never imagined himself able to find you in his arms again in this tangled mess of black ooze coated dead. Again he repeated in a low whisper tightening his grip, _“I found you_.” Nuzzling his head to yours while the Men of Gondor formed lines and bowed deeply to you greeting you formally parting the Dwarves’ lips in shock at your naming as the Queen of Gondor and Elrond’s Niece. Thranduil’s hand remained fixed on your waist and he straightened to find his Elk trotting over to him easing his task of raising you onto the saddle to guide your mingled forces off to the forest while the Dwarves returned into Erebor bowing their heads to you along the way.

A night away you were set to wiggle into a lavish gown and circlet gifted to you by the King to attend on his arm. To pull that off you were guided back to your room right away to strip and ease into the herb laced tub until you were allowed out to be lathered in more healing creams and oils in a firm massage before being fed heartily and sent to bed. Giddy to see you early again Estel took his nap early to race in and snuggle in your arms against your chest leaving the moping King in your doorway until the boy woke and wiggled free to find Legolas again with a cheerful greeting for the King who turned and stole his chance in his absence. Straight to your bed he walked and laid out eased his arms around you grumbling, _“Sleep my Love.”_ Nuzzling his head into the back of yours, _“The longer the better.”_

…

The Feast of Starlight went well and on the brink of midnight at your fourth glass of wine being drained you slipped out of the hall after a discreet mental whisper into the mind of the King being led around by one of the noble Elleths visiting from Lothlorien. His heated gaze lingering on your back until you left the doorway, all the way you made it back to your quarters where you eased your crown off to set on the table along the wall. Passing it you made it to the doorway of your bedroom when the front door opened and promptly closed in your lean back against the doorframe behind you. A few long strides later you were planted between that hard wooden frame and the tall Elf King hungrily working his lips against yours.

A move from the doorway to the bed brought on a fumbling of hands and above you as you pulled your gown up over your head Thranduil’s stuck button he had taken the task of undoing from you triggered him to grip the front of his robe. Tearing it open sending buttons flying while he shimmied out of the robe casting it carelessly to the floor then reached down jerking his practically sheer white undershirt off to billow down beside the tattered robe your dress fell heavily on as his lips planted on yours again. A second tear was heard and his pants shoved down, far from the docile timid approach usual for first encounters but no less gentle or considerate of your pleasure.

A pause here and a far gentler kiss to your now cradled neck in the stunned gasp at his sinking in fully your legs naturally folded around him and the hunger sparked up the roaring flame in your bellies again. Steady and sure you claimed one another knowing even in your wine soaked haze the repercussions of this act, but politics mattered little at the hands caressing and guiding your body around and under him to find the proper angle leaving you temporarily lost to the world in your euphoric haze soon followed by many more.

Underneath the covers nestled in front of the King you lay on your side stirring to the soft fingers sending your devious strips of curls away from your face. Over your shoulders, down your arm and onto your side they sank under the lush materials folding around you as his hand sank to your hip. A fidget of your head brought his blurry smile into view at your peek at him only to giggle and burrow your head into your palms. Lowering your hands at his deep chuckle you said, _“I had my doubts on if I would be waking up alone.”_

After a faked gasp his hand settled on your hip and he slid closer to you brushing you onto your back while his leg eased between yours and his hand cradled the back of your neck to trace his thumb against the rim of your ear. In a velvety purr he replied inches form your lips, _“I may be King but even I get three days and nights off to spend with my new Bride.”_

Ticking up your brow you purred back, _“Only three nights?”_ He nodded and nipped at your lip in your ease against his chest to ghost your lips against his easing your hips closer to the pulsing muscle tapping against your stomach, _“Then I should make the most of it.”_ Your lips found his muffling his deep chuckle in your rolling him onto his back to straddle and ease down onto him.

A head roll back and a man mingled gasp shared by the pair of you at your climax the opening of your apartment door turned your head towards it while the King managed to draw the covers up around your waist. Your hands rose to your lips at the second set of doors opening against the clear distant protests of Legolas exposing Estel in his full speed rush towards the bed. Moving a hand of his from your hip to his lips, easing his fingers across his lips trying to remain calm, your fingers lowered from yours at his stop beside you. A grin was forced across your face to hide your reaction to the pulsing muscle inside you begging you to continue, triggering your tightening in return almost stirring the King to moan again.

Estel grinned widely looking between you both saying, “I heard you are making a baby.” Your wide eyes blinked as you heard Legolas panting in his hunched hobble into the doorway trying to keep his eyes off you being seated on top of his father’s lap, a sight causing his cheeks to burn in his soft call for his new brother.

While Thranduil stared up at you feeling his cheeks start to prickle you chose not to lie to the child just accepting what had occurred. _“Trying, yes.”_

His grin spread and he moved to sit on Thranduil’s chest making the King cover his mouth completely trying not to laugh while Legolas turned a deeper shade of red facing the wall away from you, unable to watch the boy without disturbing your privacy any farther. Estel peered up at your face crossing his ankles at the King’s side making you nip at your lip at the next pulse inside you, _“I want a sister. Then a baby brother, just one, and then another sister.”_

You nodded and let out a weak giggle, _“We will do our best to try and follow that plan little one.”_

He nodded and leaned over kissing your cheek and hugging your neck before turning to the King, who raised his brows and lowered his hand at the small finger tapping his chest, _“Sister, brother, then sister. See you at lunch.”_ Thranduil couldn’t help but crack an awkward grin at the lean in and peck on his cheek he returned as you had before the boy jumped up racing over to Legolas, scrambling over his back signaling the Prince to carry the boy right out of your sight. Sealed behind them the doors shut and your face twisted into a wide grin, covering your face with your hands you bent forward resting your forehead onto his chest giggling as he chuckled under you.

Squeaking between giggles you mumbled, _“He sat on you.”_

Chuckling again he purred, _“Yes he did.”_

Brushing your hair back out of your face your eyes locked with his and you bit your lip stirring a playful smirk onto his face in his inching up to press his forehead to yours aiding your lean in to kiss you again. Within moments you had tugged the covers away from your middle easing your lean in to fold against him only to giggle at his hand on your back to roll you over and wrap you around him again.

…

By that night you had both been moved into the King’s apartment just down the hall with a newly added nursery Estel had decorated himself. As best he could once your three days were up the King gave you as much time as he could, loving each moment he had while your people returned to Gondor with your freshly painted portrait. Your changes to the main goings on to policies long since useful intact and withheld by your Steward eager to carry out his new Queen’s demands, hoping to ready the Royal Wing in hopes you would visit soon.

Six months in an on the heels of your first three month long visit to Gondor in what he hoped to be a surprise visit to join you for lunch Thranduil passed the Royal gardens to find his Elk with head held high under a tall pear tree. Small feet were resting on his antlers reaching up into the branches to drop fruit down into the basket Legolas was holding filled with previously picked oranges and grapes. Straight to his Elk he walked peering up at his youngest son with a curious grin, _“Little One, just what are you doing?”_

Estel giggled sitting on top of the Elk’s head with a grin passing off the last pear to Legolas who added it to the basket, _“Nana is ill so we are picking fruit for her.”_

He glanced at Legolas, _“Ill?”_ Legolas nodded and he promptly turned and walked through the palace at a brisk pace hoping that you were merely oversleeping and had been mistaken as ill by the young boy. Though at the door to your shared apartment he found it open and he strolled inside finding a healer leaving your bedroom, anxiously he moved closer and eyed the Elleth’s face hoping to uncover the verdict from her expression.

An easy grin settled on her face and her hand settled on his shoulder in a comforting pat only allowed to her as his former nurse maid when he was a baby and again for Legolas, _“Relax My King, the Queen is merely tired from her travels_.” He exhaled steadily and her grin spread, _“After all crossing half of Middle Earth is quite strenuous, even when not with child.”_ His lips parted again and she left him with another kind pat after stating, _“I have ordered her to remain in bed for no less than a week with doubled up meals to help regain her strength. Congratulations.”_

Alone in the hall he took another deep breath and then moved to the doorway of your bedroom where he eased the buttons loose across his chest to drop the robe at the foot of the bed, cushioning his crown he dropped onto it. A few steps later he knelt on the bed and settled at your side easing his arms around you and pressed his lips to your cheek and you giggled out, _“It seems Estel might get that sister he wanted.”_

Deeply he chuckled nestling his forehead against yours while you settled against his chest, lowly he murmured sweet sentiments against your skin between the warm trail of kisses he peppered against your skin. The opening of your apartment door turned you both to the young Prince racing to your side while Legolas carried the tray with bowls of the sliced fruit he carried over to you.

Estel, _“We picked you fruit Nana!”_

With a giggle you replied, _“Thank you.”_ Looking him over, _“It looks delicious.”_

Estel sat beside you putting his hand on your forehead with a concerned expression, _“Are you really ill?”_

 Thranduil chuckled saying, _“Not so much ill as needing rest.”_

Estel glanced at him with a pout and you said, _“It seems you will be a big brother soon enough.”_

That spread a wide grin onto his face and he burrowed under your covers making you giggle at his snuggle over your middle chatting with his sibling while Legolas sat down only to be tugged down into a tight hug by his Ada. Chuckling as they joined your hugging pile as Estel stated from under the blanket, _“We’re going to be the best big brothers ever! Pick you fruit every day so you go big and strong, keep you warm and cozy and when you’re big enough,”_ his voice dropped to a whisper, _“We’ll teach you so many cool bow tricks!”_

His hand patted your belly and your head turned accepting your husband’s loving kiss while the Healer spread the word. Word that soon enough was sent back to Gondor as well, the city exploded in a frenzy of cheer knowing now their Queen now had an heir with a spare on the way. Though that celebration was nothing compared to the one Elrond had planned. By noon he had begun the trip to Greenwood with all his supplies and children in tow, each eagerly hoping to witness the first signs of the growing future Prince or Princess. All compounded by the Dwarves’ gifts aiding in your nesting urges to ready for the distant birth.

 


End file.
